NaNoWriMo continues, and I'm bouncing around all over this place. I've been wanting to move forward with this story for a while, and this was the perfect opportunity to force myself to get a move on.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

It was the day before New Year's Eve. Peter only knew this because the nearby Muggles had made such a racket on Christmas, so he'd been able to keep track of the days from then on. This would make two months he'd been living as a rat, most of it in the walls of an old muggle woman's ancient house. If there was one bright spot, it was that he seemed to have given whomever was chasing them (his former friends likely among them) the slip.

He'd never been one for New Year's resolutions – he always ended up breaking them before the end of January – but he knew what he was going to do this year. He was going to get out of this miserable hovel and find somewhere comfortable to live. And then, once the heat had died down, he was going to start listening for news again. He knew the Dark Lord couldn't be really gone – there was just no way. All he had to do was find out where he'd gone and help him come back. That would make up for any and all of the mistakes he'd made. Even people like Malfoy and Lestrange couldn't hold it against him anymore after that.

And then he was going to teach his so-called "friends" what it meant to turn their backs on him. He grit his teeth in fury just thinking about it.

That was the plan. Everything had gone so catastrophically wrong and he'd paid the biggest price of all, which just wasn't fair, but a new year meant new beginnings. He'd show all of them.

Now, he thought, munching on a discarded ginger biscuit he'd stolen from the kitchen on Boxing Day from where it had slid behind the refrigerator, he just needed to figure out how to do all of that.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Lars Atron was a free man. His had ended up being the last trial of the year. He'd been surprised to learn they picked back up in the week between Christmas and New Year's, but evidently the Ministry was serious about wanting to get all of these done.

He had been away from the dementors long enough to actually feel and enjoy the sense of euphoria he felt upon being released. There were only fourteen hours left in the year, but he was determined to make the most of them. And the next year would be the best of his life so far; he was determined to make it so.

His family took him out to lunch as soon as he left the ministry, telling him jubilantly that they'd never believed the charges against him for a second, and that they always knew he'd be proven innocent some day. Some of them may have actually been sincere – he thought at least his mother was – but he was too elated to care even if they weren't. He let himself enjoy the meal and the company of people he hadn't seen in over two years. Merlin, had it only been that long? If someone had told him while he was still in there that it had been a decade or more he would have believed it. The urge to feel bitter and angry reared up inside him, but the bright blue sky and crisp winter air tamped it down. How many clear-skied days did London get in a winter season? In a year? It was as if the world itself were celebrating with him.

After a raucous meal, he said goodbye to his family, hugged his mother, and promised to see them all that evening for firewhiskey, champagne and fireworks. Then he pulled out the new wand his mother had bought for him (his old one having been snapped on his incarceration), turned on the spot and disapparated.

He reappeared at the end of the drive leading up to an ornate old Victorian era mansion. He never thought he'd see it again, but upon his exoneration the Ministry, who had previously confiscated the property and had it condemned, returned it to him. He sneered; it was the least they could do.

He tapped his new wand on the gate and after a brief delay – he didn't know if the gate were rusty or he was – it creaked open. The gate, then. Or maybe both.

It didn't look too run down, he though, inspecting the exterior as he walked up the drive. Two years wasn't that long for a building to go neglected, after all. It was probably in better shape than he was. Still, it would take a month or so of work before he could get it back up and running as a hotel. Briefly, he wondered if he even wanted to. Crouch's reason for locking him away in the first place had been the accusation he'd allowed Death Eaters to use his hotel as a safehouse and base of operations. No matter how many times he tried to explain that he didn't meddle in his guests' business, he was treated as guilty from the off. His blood started boiling again, so he quickly forced himself away from that line of thinking and began making a mental checklist of the repairs and maintenance he'd need to make. A new coat of paint on the exterior, for a start. He was the Azure Lodge, not the Drab Grimy Purple Place.

Inside was not nearly as bad as it could have been either. Dusty and with a bit of a stale, musty smell, everything looked intact and he probably wouldn't have to make any major repairs. Assuing the rest of the place looked as good as the foyer, anyway.

Several hours later, he had the entryway at least looking presentable, and his own living quarters were, if not how he'd like them, then at least livable. He was about to call it a day and get washed up for his famiy's New Year's Eve party when the front bell rang.

Not expecting anyone at this hour – or indeed so soon – he drew his wand out of an abundance of caution and approached the door. Looking out, he saw a well-dressed tall and thin blond man waiting with an imperious expression on his face. Lars's hackles raised, but he opened the door.

'Good evening, Atron,' a drawling voice greeted him, entering without being invited. Lars shut the door swiftly behind him. 'I was delighted to hear you were out and about again.'

'Malfoy!' Lars hissed. 'How dare you come here! The day of my release! Do you want them to throw me back in there?'

'Good heavens, calm yourself, man,' Lucius Malfoy said. The man had the nerve to sound amused. Amused! 'Don't you imagine that if they considered me a threat to the wizarding world that I would at this very moment be awaiting a trial of my own?'

'You mean you're not?' The very idea that someone like Malfoy had gotten away scot-free while he…

'Don't sound so surprised, Atron,' said Malfoy. 'The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, after all.'

Lars grit his teeth to keep himself from saying what he really wanted to say. It would do him no good.

'What are you doing here?' he demanded instead.

'I should think that would be obvious,' said Malfoy. 'The Dark Lord may be gone, but there will always be a need for a safe place to conduct business away from prying eyes. I was hoping you would be amenable to resuming our prior business arrangement.'

Blood rushed to Lars's face and his temples throbbed. He clenched his fists unconciously and grit his teeth so hard they should have cracked. Flashes of being dragged away by Crouch and his men danced through his mind, accused of aiding and abetting Death Eaters, thrown away to rot for the rest of his life with little more than a word and the wave of a hand. Anger, fury, and resentment that he'd been trying to plaster over all day finally burst through.

'Happily,' he said, keeping his tone low and even. 'Though I expect you to be more circumspect and discreet this time.' He reached out and shook Lucius Malfoy's hand.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Lily felt butterflies in her stomach as she looked herself over in the bathroom mirror, and not all of them were the good kind. Tonight was to be their first social gathering – their first true excursion out of their own home, really – in over a year. She was looking forward to it, but at the same time…

'Are you sure Harry's going to be all right?' she called down to James for what felt like the fifth time but in reality was probably closer to the twelfth. 'Maybe we should just stay home. There's always next year.'

There was a pause, and Lily wondered if she'd driven her husband to insanity, but a moment later he appeared behind her in the mirror.

'Next year we'll have another one to worry about, and the year after that it'll be, "We never go to those things anyway,"' he said, coming up behind her and encircling his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. She tilted her head aside for him and breathed in his scent, sliding her hands over his and relishing his touch.

'But don't you think...' she didn't really know what she was going to say, but leaving the question hanging out there would hopefully communicate her anxiety. She didn't think she'd ever be comfortable taking Harry out of the house again, which she was fully aware was probably not a healthy mindset for her or for Harry, but she couldn't help it.

'Of course I do,' he said, kissing her again – the side of her face this time. 'I'll never stop worrying about Harry. How could I after everything we've been through? But that's just it, isn't it? It's either loosen up on that fear a little bit, or let it control us for the rest of our lives. Do we really want to be the kind of parents who never let our children go anywhere or do anything? That would be a frighteningly easy habit to slip into, don't you think?'

'You're right,' she said, taking a deep breath. 'Of course you're right. It's just...the first time was always going to be the hardest, wasn't it? But we need to get it over with eventually. And it's not as if Mrs Longbottom's house isn't safe.'

'Right,' said James. 'Of course. And Neville will be there too. And her house elf is perfectly qualified and capable of looking after them, so we'll only have to check on him every ten minutes instead of every three.'

'And we can send Sirius in on the fives,' she said, laughing a little.

'Exactly,' said James, looseing his hold on her a little. She felt the faint pang of regret she always felt whenever this happened.

'I am excited to see everyone again,' she admitted, some of her anxiety ebbing away (but not all of it. Never all of it).

'Have you decided if you're going to break the big news?'

They had yet to tell anyone she was pregnant. Only Audrey knew, and she was sworn to secrecy; even Sirius and Remus had no idea yet.

'I haven't, no,' she said. 'But I'm thinking I probably will. I want to see if anybody notices me not drinking.' It never hurt to have a little fun.

'Sirius definitely will,' James said, grinning toothily.

'Yes, I expect so.'

'You actually want him to notice and ask you about it, don't you?'

'Maybe,' said Lily, flashing him a grin of her own.

'You're brilliant,' he said. 'I knew I married you for a reason.'

'Oh? It's not just that I have a nice bum? That's why I married you.'

'You have a magnificent bum,' he said, seizing the opportunity to take it in his hands. A thrill ran through her that she might have acted upon had she not spent the last forty minutes getting made-up and dressed. 'Lovely other bits, too,' he said, turning her around and kissing her. 'But that's all just a bonus, really.'

'I'm glad you feel that way, because gravity will have its way with me eventually,' she said.

He tilted her head up and gazed into her eyes. She always felt lightheaded when he did this; his hazel eyes viewed up close looked like stormclouds, complete with tiny flecks of gold that could have been lightning. It was next to impossible to look away, if she ever even wanted to, which she never did.

'You will never not be beauriful to me,' he said.

There's still time, she thought to herself. I can get dressed again. And how hard is make-up, really?

They were interrupted, unfortunately, by a yelled greeting from downstairs.

'Speak of the dog and he appears,' said James, pulling his eyes away, leaving her again with a sense of loss. It also let her collect her wits and realize that if Sirius was home, they did not, in fact, have time at all.

'We're up here, Padfoot!' James called down. 'Be ready in a minute!'

'You'd better be, you randy sods!' came the reply. 'This is the only night off I'm getting until the end of the month!'

'We're coming, Sirius!' Lily called to reassure him, trying not to laugh.

'Ugh! I didn't need to know that! Just hurry up and get down here!'

James laughed and Lily rolled her eyes.

'A child,' she said. 'Your best mate is a child.'

'By all accounts I'm not much better,' said James, wiping at the corner of his eye. Lily affected a put-upon frown.

'No. You're not,' she said. 'But for some barmy reason I love you anyway. Let's get going.' Before I decide to delay us by at least an hour. Bloody hell, is this pregnancy hormones or something?

The two of them collected Harry and went downstairs to meet an impatiently waiting Sirius. He opened his mouth to make what would no doubt be another crass, suggestive comment, but at a glower from Lily and a stern look from James, he closed it again.

'Moony's meeting us there?' James asked once he was sure the situation was defused.

'He'd better be,' said Sirius. 'Full moon's not for over a week; he's got no excuses.'

'I wouldn't worry,' said Lily. 'If nothing else, he knows you two will be unbearable for the next few weeks if he doesn't go.'

'Too right,' said Sirius, fastening his cloak. Why he'd even taken it off was a mystery. 'Oh! You know who else is supposedly coming? Decker!'

'What?' said James and Lily at once.

'He didn't leave?' James asked.

'Apparently not,' said Sirius. 'I just heard about it myself yesterday. Allegedly he, uh…found "a reason to stay" that he was talking about.' He waggled his eyebrow and made a nudging motion with his elbow. Lily's heart leapt and she smiled brightly.

'You don't mean...' she said, but in her heart she knew that had to be it. 'Heather?'

'As I said, "Allegedly",' said Sirius. 'But yeah, I think it's pretty obvious it's her, innit? They were practically sewn together at our do last month.'

'I never knew he fancied her,' said James. Sweet, oblivious James. 'I mean, they've always been friends, but...'

'If he did, he kept it quiet,' said Lily. 'But she's been mad about him for ages. Surely you must have noticed?'

'No,' said James earnestly. 'I mean, obviously I noticed at the party, but are you talking about way back in school?'

'Yes!' said Lily, exasperated and amused. 'Good lord, James, were your eyes closed all of seventh year?'

'No, they were just mostly focused on you.'

That brought her up short.

'Well, she didn't talk about it much except with us in the dorm,' she said more evenly. 'But I thought it would have been obvious to anyone looking.'

'Maybe that's just bias because you knew,' suggested Sirius.

'You could be right,' said Lily. 'I hadn't considered that.'

'Well I need to see this for myself now,' said James. 'If Brown's hooked him, that's great news. For everyone! For her, for him – she's a gem – and for the rest of us, if it means he's sticking around. What are we standing around here for? Let's go!'

They stepped out into the frozen night and prepared to apparate to Augusta Longbottom's manor house. Lily was more excited to attend at this latest news than she'd been all evening. She couldn't wait to see Heather and find out of it was true. She hoped it was; everyone deserved that kind of happiness.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

James had almost forgotten what a society party was like. This was the first one he'd ever been to without either of his parents, and he'd only agreed to come in the first place because it was Frank's mother hosting it. He would have much preferred a smaller event with his friends, but as most of them were attending this party (on Frank's invitation) that wasn't exactly an option.

He could understand why so many of them wanted to come, though. Events like this had become very rare indeed over the last few years of the war, with more and more people fearing to mingle with those they didn't know well, or even to leave their own homes for anything other than necessary business. There had been a number of parties and galas and formal affairs in the last two months – far more than there would be in ordinary times, perhaps in an attempt to make up for lost time – but New Year's Eve was a major event and people were reveling in the opportunity to celebrate it in a traditional and "proper" manner.

It was a good thing Mrs Longbottom owned a large estate, because it seemed to James that half of wizarding Britain was in attendance, and perhaps some from the continent, too. He saw countless Hogwarts alumni from his time there (most were older than him, from Frank's year or Alice's), a few professors, several friends of his parents he'd known for most of his life, multiple members of the Wizengamot, and countless Ministry officials.

Briefly, he worried about Lily, who'd only ever been to one of these events, but he needn't have. She was in her element, brimming as ever with confidence and dignity. It would take more than a manor full of stuffy old traditionalists to intimidate her.

'James! Lily! You made it!' Frank bellowed, working through the crowd to reach them. 'And Sirius! I'd have thought you'd be taking this chance to sleep! Merlin knows they run you lot ragged.'

'And miss this shindig?' scoffed Sirius. 'What do you take me for, Longbottom?'

'My mistake,' laughed Frank. 'Remus is already here; he was asking after the three of you. Why don't I show you where you can take Harry?'

'Thanks, Frank,' said James. Sirius went off to find Remus and he and Lily followed James up several flights of stairs to a room on the third floor.

'Mum wanted them to have a place far removed from the excitement where the noise wouldn't disturb them,' Frank explained as he led them down the corridor to the room at the back corner of the manor house. 'Rilla's in there with them; she's Mum's house elf. She's really good with kids.'

'"Them"?' asked Lily. 'Is there someone else besides Neville and Harry?'

'Oh, right, I didn't mention. Royce and Violet's little girl is in there, too. Lavender. She's a sweetheart.'

'Oh, Heather was telling us about her last month!' Lily said. 'You'd have thought she was talking about her own daughter.'

'Here we are,' said Frank, opening the door. A delightful little room was on the other side, full of pillows and cushions and all sorts of toys for the children to enjoy. Neville was sitting on the floor building something out of blocks next to a girl playing some kind of game with a stuffed rabbit and a stuffed griffin. Both of them were under the watchful eye of a cheerful looking house elf with a nose like a stubby carrot, wearing what looked like a small tablecloth as a toga.

'Young Master has another playmate for the young master Neville?' Rilla asked, smiling. She had a strong voice; James was inexplicably reminded of Professor McGonagall.

'This is Harry, Rilla,' said Frank. 'These are his parents, Lily and James. Please look after him this evening.'

'Of course, Young Master!' said Rilla brightly. 'Young Harry is will be safe and comfortable here, Sir and Miss. Rilla will take good care of him, Sir and Miss.'

'Thank you very much, Rilla,' said Lily warmly, setting Harry on the floor. 'We're counting on you.' Rilla straigtened proudly and beamed at them.

'See you later, Harry,' said James. To Rilla he said. 'Feel free to come and find us if there's any trouble.'

'If Sir wishes,' said Rilla. 'But Rilla thinks there will be no trouble, Sir. Please enjoy your evening, Sir.'

Back downstairs, the party was in full swing. More people had arrived in the time they'd spent upstairs, and one of the first people James saw was one of the last people he wanted to speak to. Unfortunately, he had been seen in return.

'Make your escape,' he muttered to Lily. 'I'll fend him off and come find you later.'

Lily must have understood, because she didn't even argue. She just kissed him on the cheek, wished him good luck, and strolled off into the crowd.

Roland Spade was a reporter for the Daily Prophet who had been badgering James with owls since the day after Hallowe'en. James had been successful in putting him off so far, but he knew it couldn't last forever. But why tonight? This was supposed to be a fun occasion. Why had Mrs Longbottom even invited him? Or had she?

'James Potter!' Spade said jovially, walking straight up to him. James didn't buy the act for a second. 'We meet at last! I swear, these last two months we must have been like two brooms passing in the night. How fortunate to have chance to speak to you at last.'

'Hello, Mr Spade,' said James neutrally.

'Now James, call me Roland! We have a lot to talk about to be sure; no sense miring the process with formality.'

'No offense, Roland,' James forced himself to say, 'but do we have to do this tonight? I came here to enjoy time with my friends.'

'As did I, believe it or not, James. I'm not on the clock all the time, despite what you may believe. But I have to sieze an opportunity when I see it. If I don't talk to you now, why, you might slip away from me again and who knows when I'll get another chance?'

James knew he would end up regretting what he was about to say, but if he were honest with himself it was probably the right thing to do, all things considered.

'If I promise to talk to you later this week, will you leave me alone tonight?'

'What's this? A promise?' Spade's eyes went wide.

'Yes. You won't have to corner me; we can meet in the Leaky Cauldron or somewhere and you can ask me whatever you want.'

'You understand why I might be skeptical, don't you James?'

Why does he keep saying my name? It's really irritating.

'I've been avoiding you,' he said. 'I think after the trauma my family went through, you can understand that.'

'You have my sympathy, of course, but all the same the public has a right to know. You accomplished something people were beginning to think was impossible, James. You restored hope to a country on the brink of despair. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a holiday named for you in the future. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't try to get the full story.'

James sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Loathe as he was to admit it, the man had a point.

'I know,' he said grudgingly. 'And as I said, I'm ready to talk to you. Just not tonight.'

'Would you mind if I asked for this in writing, James?' asked Spade. 'Just to make sure I've covered all my hoops.'

And so James was forced to sign his name to a letter saying he would be at the Leaky Cauldron at one o'clock on the third of January, ready to answer all questions. He was able to limit the time of the interview to an hour (he had a family to get back to), but Spade implied there would need to be a second interview if they didn't finish in that time.

Spade was eventually satisfied and left James alone, but with a sinking pit in his stomach. Knowing he was doing what was necessary didn't mean he had to like it.

He turned away from a retreating Spade, intending to seek out his wife, or at the very least one of his friends, but before he made it five steps he was approached again. This time, at least, it wasn't by someone he'd been actively trying to avoid, but it wasn't exactly someone he was pleased to see, either.

Tristan Thorne had been a friend of his father's, and James had known him for several years. He also happened to be the current Head of the Auror Office.

'James!' he said cordially, putting out his hand. James took it, not wanting to be rude. 'I was hoping I'd see you here.'

'It's nice to see you, sir,' he said. He wasn't sure if he was being dishonest or not. He'd always thought of Thorne as a pleasant enough fellow; it was what the man might want to talk to him about that had him anxious.

'And you, my boy,' said Thorne, clapping him on the shoulder, then falling into step beside him. 'Moody's told me you've decided against joining the department.'

There it was.

'And I want you to know straight away that I respect your decision, and I'm not going to try to change your mind.'

That, however, was unexpected.

'Sir?'

'James, you've done the wizarding world a tremendous service,' Thorne said. 'The way I see it, nobody has any right to expect anything of you at this point. More than anything, I wanted to offer you my thanks and appreciation for what you did.'

'Er, thank you, sir,' James stammered. A lot of people had been trying to get a piece of him, but this was the first time someone had simply thanked him.

'I won't deny I was hoping you'd join up with us,' Thorne went on, 'but I completely understand where you're coming from. I'm a family man myself, and not a day goes by when I don't question whether the risk is worth it. My children are old enough to look after themselves, of course, which makes it a little easier, if only just.'

'I did strongly consider joining, sir,' he said honestly. Thorne smiled – an indulgent uncle looking upon a favored nephew.

'James, you don't work for me and you've known me nearly your whole life; you can call me Tristan,' he said.

'It would feel awkward,' James admitted.

'It always does at first; you'll get used to it,' Thorne said. 'Anyway, there was something else I wanted to discuss with you, if you'll grant me a few minutes. I know you'd like to be with your friends.'

'I can spare a few minutes,' James said. Perhaps it was against his better judgement, but he was now curious.

'Excellent,' Thorne said. 'Shall we find a place to sit down?'

They found a small couch in a smaller room away from the main festivities. There were far fewer people in here, but it wasn't empty. Not some kind of trap, then. Not yet.

'What did you want to talk to me about, sir? Er, Tristan?' James asked once they were seated.

Thorne smiled again at his stumble. 'It's about the aurors,' Thorne said. Alarm bells immediately went off in James's head, but Thorn quickly followed, 'I'm not asking you to join. I already said I wouldn't. Even if I had no qualms about trying to talk you into it somehow, I wouldn't. The department can't afford anyone who's not fully committed. Especially not now. No, I have something entirely different in mind.'

'What's that?' James asked again.

'James, did you know the Death Eaters had a standing order amongst their organization not to engage you? All but their most senior members were instructed to flee rather than face you in a duel.'

'I didn't know that, no,' he said, astonished.

'This is a distinction that was only given to seven people, among them Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore,' Thorn continued. Almost as an aside he added, 'I wasn't mentioned.'

'I'm…well, "honored" isn't the right word, but...I don't know what to say,' said James.

'Talent like yours is rare, James. It would be a pity not to put it to use.'

'I thought you said -'

'I did, and I meant it,' said Thorne. 'I'm not here recruiting; I've come with an offer.'

'An offer?'

'You told Moody you were strongly considering joining the department. You told me the same thing. And whatever else you might think of me, James, I'm not stupid. I know perfectly well you and Lily have been working with Dumbledore since the day you left school. Maybe even before then. What this all says to me is that you want to help. And I may have a way you can do that without putting yourself at risk, without needing to worry that your family will one day find themselves without you.'

'I don't understand,' said James. He really didn't. Usually he was rather good at picking up hints and implications, but he had no idea where Thorne was going with this.

'The department is in a bad way,' said Thorne. 'I know you're aware of this; Sirius can't have been quiet about how grueling his training has been. We're quite frankly desperate to rebuild the ranks and get more fully trained aurors out there. You-Know-Who may be gone but plenty of his supporters are still around, and even run of the mill dark wizards are emboldened by our lack of personnel. We need to get the next batch of aurors trained up and up to snuff as quickly as possible, but cutting corners isn't an option either. This means the training they get has to be top notch right from the off.'

The flow of the conversation finally clicked; James at last knew what Tristan Thorne wanted from him.

'You want me to train your new recruits?' he asked incredulously. 'In dueling?'

'That's exactly what I want, yes,' said Thorne, pleased that James seemed to have cottoned on. 'They need to learn from someone who not only knows what they're doing, but who also has actually done it. Your unique combination of natural ability and real field experience makes you the absolute best person for the job, in my opinion.'

James felt blindsided. It took him a few moments before he could even formulate a response.

'But...don't you have people in the department for this sort of thing?' he asked.

'We do, and they do a fine job, but they're getting on in years and they're not going to be around forever. And I'm not going to lie, learning from the man who bested You-Know-Who would be a huge confidence and morale booster for many a young trainee.'

'I wouldn't say I bested him,' said James uncomfortably. 'I mostly just got lucky.'

Thorne gave him a look as though he were being thick.

'If you got lucky it's because you were able to manufacture a situation where getting lucky was possible,' the old auror said. 'Not many people could have come up with a trap clever enough to trip him up, or lived long enough in a duel to maneuver him into it. Don't try to be modest, James; it's unbecoming. With the same resources you had available, there are maybe a dozen wizards or witches in Britain who could possibly have pulled that off, none of them with any better chance than you had save Dumbledore. I'm not even sure I count myself among them.'

James was, again, at a loss for what to say.

'That's the sort of ingenuity and skill we need our aurors to have,' Thorne went on. 'That's what I want you to teach them.'

'But...but I'm not even an auror!' James protested. 'How can I go straight to being a trainer?'

'It's not unusual for us to bring in outside specialists for instruction in certain areas,' Thorne explained. 'Poison detection and first aid, usually, but other things on occasion. This would be no different.'

'What about Moody?' James asked. 'Surely he could teach dueling better than me.'

Thorne actually laughed. 'That may be true,' he said. 'But he'd never agree to leaving the field, nor would I want him to in any case. We need him out there.

'Listen, James. I'm not trying to force you to do anything you don't want to do. As I said, as far as I'm concerned you've earned the right to do whatever you want for the rest of your life. If you're really not interested, I can find someone else, but I truly do believe you're the best man for the job, which is why I came to you first. This is an offer, James. A job offer, and an offer to do something to help. But you've done enough. If you'd rather play quidditch, or travel the world, or sit at home and do absolutely nothing at all, you go ahead and do that. No one will begrudge you that right, least of all me.'

It was so much, and completely unexpected. James had absolutely no idea what to do. Except he knew he had to talk to Lily.

'Can I...can I think it over?' he asked.

'Of course!' Thorne said. 'Good heavens, I didn't expect you to make up your mind right away. Talk to your wife; talk to your friends. Weigh it against other things you might want to do. We wouldn't need you until August anyway; that's when the new training session starts. It wouldn't be good to introduce a new instructor halfway through the current one; it might throw some people off. If you haven't made up your mind by May, I'll start looking for someone else, but the job's always yours if you want it.'

'Okay,' said James, fighting to get his swirling thoughts under control. One thing did stick out at him. 'But if I do end up accepting, I can tell you right now I'd have one condition.'

'What's that?'

'I don't train Sirius's cohort.' That would be a nightmare and a half.

Thorne looked surprised at first, and then amused, and then exasperated.

'Yes,' he said finally. 'Yes, I think that would be for the best.'

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

This chapter was originally intended to go all the way through New Year's and beyond, but I just liked Thorne's line at the end so much that I had to cut it off there. More to come!

Please leave a review with your thoughts. If this were a YouTube video, this is where I'd say, "Like and subscribe, and hit the like button," but all I really want are those reviews.